


Lay Me Down Again My Friend

by cardel



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gladio-centric, M/M, Some Fluff, Time Skips, but my dudes this is hella sad, chronological time skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 18:25:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10496913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardel/pseuds/cardel
Summary: Prompt:The reason Gladio is so adamant about Noct carrying out his duty is because he carries the Amicitia clan's secret with him - they're tasked with both protecting the King and killing them if they ever stray from the crystal's path, because someone like Ardyn cannot be allowed to happen again.Gladio is three years old when the 114th King of Lucis is born.  The future king is a week old when Gladio’s father takes him to meet him.  It is then that his father tells him of his duty to the tiny prince.  Gladio looks down at the sleeping prince and can’t help but feel bad for him, so small and already without a mother to help keep him safe.  Not even a month old and already life is being unfair to him.  He decides then and there, he can do this, he will protect this baby from all harm.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Man, this just kept growing and growing. Also, not beta'd we die like men lol But seriously I'll edit soon.
> 
> This prompt messed me up and as if that wasn't bad enough '30 lives' by Imagine Dragons (which inspired the title btw) came up on my playlist and messed me up even more  
>  [Here's a youtube link to it cause I like to spread the angst :)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbZGtzC_yZo)

Gladio is three years old when the 114th King of Lucis is born.  The future king is a week old when Gladio’s father takes him to meet him.  It is then that his father tells him of his duty to the tiny prince.  Gladio looks down at the sleeping prince and can’t help but feel bad for him, so small and already without a mother to help keep him safe.  Not even a month old and already life is being unfair to him. He decides then and there, he can do this, he will protect this baby from all harm.

It’s years later that he comes to understand what his duty as a shield entails.  It is not only protecting and dying for the king but being a pillar of strength, of focusing for the king when the king can’t focus, of carrying the king and carrying on for the king when the king no longer can.

Gladio has mixed feelings about this. He can’t ever imagine a king who he needs do this for. He sees King Regis, composed, regal and can never see him needing his father to shoulder on his burdens.  

“The king has many issues weighing heavily on his mind, if we as shields can unburden him if only for a short time it is our duty to do,” his father explains to him.

“I don’t expect you to understand this now Gladiolus.  In time you will come to see what I mean and you will gladly take on any tasks for your king if it means he rests a little easier.”

Gladio takes his father’s words as truth, he has been a Shield for years if anyone knows what it’s like it’s him.  It still takes him a few more years to adjust, accept and embrace his destiny.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Gladio is thirteen, part of his training is guard duty, which basically means he gets to stand in a room, wherever the prince may be, and do his best to look like a statue, at least that’s what it feels like to him.   His father tells him it’s so he can learn all aspects of the Crownsguard.

Much as he finds it incredibly boring, this at least lets him be around the prince, though he quickly wishes this were not the case.  He thought seeing his future king would invoke a deeper sense of duty in him, as it is, what he sees of Noctis leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

The prince is a brat, he oversleeps, shows no interests in his studies, throws quiet tantrums when there are vegetables in his meals and shows more interest in napping than learning about his people.

This is the person who he is expected to protect.  This is his future king.  Gladio is having a difficult time accepting this.

A small part of him tries to says the prince is still a child but that is pushed down by the part that says ‘so were you’ and he had embraced his duty and thrown everything he has into it, why couldn't the future king?

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The prince is eleven when he begins his training with Gladio, any hope Gladio had that the tough training would teach the prince to be better are dashed away the first time Gladio knocks the training sword out of Noctis’ hand.  Instead of picking it up to begin again, the prince winces, holds his hand to his chest and pouts staring at the sword as if _it_ failed _him_.

Gladio doesn’t think he’s ever been so angry and disappointed in his life.  With a patience he does not feel he tells the prince, “Pick it up.  When you drop your weapon you pick it up again until I tell you otherwise.”

The prince lifts his gaze from the ground to Gladio.  He has to tilt his face up to achieve this.  Having those guileless big blue eyes staring at him like that Gladio is hit with how young the prince really is.

Fighting a sigh he stomps down the regret that he does not have the luxury of being soft with the prince but maybe he can modify their sessions.  Before he has to rethink the prince’s training, the prince surprises him, he nods once and picks up his sword.

The prince drops his sword several more times and each time he picks it up again and again and again. Gladio almost smiles by the end to their training session, he can work with this.

Months later, he thinks that sentiment was extremely hopeful on his part.  Noctis’ progress in combat training is as slow as it is disheartening.  The princes’ constant whining does not endear him to Gladio at all.  Sure he never vocally complains but it’s in every slouch of his shoulders, in every missed step, in every clumsy parry, and sure he picks up his weapon every time he drops it but the way he lets the tip drag as if he can’t be bother to pick it up properly grates on Gladio’s every last nerve.

Gladio is ready to resign himself to serve a whiny king who will be a mere puppet and not a true ruler, his advisors doing all the heavy lifting behind the scenes.  He is ready to accept his new reality and let it be what it is. Until the day his sister comes to the Citadel.

Iris comes to the Citadel, gets carelessly led away and placed in danger by non-other than the prince. It is then, Gladio is ready to do the unthinkable and request to be relieved of his duty as Shield.

The thought alone makes his teeth clench in distaste but the reality that the prince, the future king, so thoughtlessly placed not only himself but an innocent civilian in danger makes him see red.  He is telling this to his sister, not bothering to hide how displeased and angry he is with the prince, when she breaks down and reveals the truth of what happened that day.

Gladio has never been speechless in his life but he is in that moment, listening to Iris retell her story.  He recalls how the prince had bowed his head accepted all responsibility and punishment without question, without once hinting it had not been his idea to wander outside the Citadel.  Without once admitting, that it had in fact, been he who had found Iris and made sure she returned safely back to the Citadel.

After reassuring Iris, no he doesn't hate the prince and yes he will still protect him from all harm, he tucks her into bed, before heading to his own room.  Alone is his room he vows to pay more attention to his prince.  

What he discovers leaves him reeling and full of disgust with himself for failing to see beyond the masks Noctis wears for everyone.

Noctis, for all his seemingly careless attitude, cares a whole hell of a lot, possibly more than anyone his age should.  He also feels so deeply.  Noctis is kind, selfless and so eager to please he almost trips over himself to comply with what he is being asked.

Once Gladio understand this his interactions with Noctis, as well as his approach to training his prince change.  Gladio realizes the slump of Noctis’ shoulders and lax grip of his sword are due to lack of sleep.  And the full body tremors are due to the nightmares that still plague him after his accident rather than disinterest or laziness.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Gladio finds out how bad the nightmares are by accident.  He is once more on guard duty standing outside of Noctis’ bedroom when he hears a faint whimper followed by a distressed plea for help.

Weapon drawn, he bursts into the prince’s bedroom only to find it empty but for the small figure thrashing on the bed. Gladio approaches him quickly.  The signs of a nightmare evident.  He leans over the prince and shakes his shoulder.

“Noctis, hey, it's okay you're safe wake up,” Gladio whispers.  The prince’s blue eyes snap open in the darkness, gaze unfocused, looking for a threat that isn’t there.

“Hey,” Gladio says catching his attention.

As soon as Noctis locks eyes with him he throws his arms around his shield and clings.  His small frame wracked with tremors.  Gladio wraps his arms around him making soothing sounds until the prince settles down enough to pull away.

With eyes downcast, Noctis takes a shaky breath. Gladio knows the words that are about to fall from his lips will be an apology.  Suddenly the thought of hearing his prince apologize for something he can't help makes him incredibly angry with himself.  He has given Noctis the impression that he can’t be vulnerable with him.  This is something he needs to correct now.

Before Noctis can say anything he places a hand on his shoulder. Noctis finally meets his gaze, eyes unsure.

“I am your shield, I protect you from all harm regardless of what form it comes in,” Gladio reassures him.

Noctis stares at him for a long time before once more casting his gaze down and says, “I wish I could protect someone,” his voice is barely above a whisper, a clear tremor in his tone.  He clenches the sheets in his hand before continuing. “I couldn’t protect anyone, not even myself.”

Gladio knows exactly what he’s talking about.  The fact that Noctis expresses regret over his eight year old self’s inability to protect anyone from a daemons is more indication about how deeply Noctis cares for his people.

“Noctis.”

“What if I never can?” The question bursts out of his lips, shocking even the prince if his wide eyes are any indication.

“You will learn,” Gladio tells him with a conviction that he hadn’t felt before but now it's unwavering. 

“I will teach you how to fight,” he promises.

Noctis isn’t king yet and already Gladio can see the burdens he carries with him.  He finally understand what his father had meant, when he had said, he would gladly take any task from his king if it meant his king rested a little easier. 

“Should you ever falter and can no longer fight, I will pick up your sword and do it for you,” Gladio vows.

Noctis nods his eyes shining with tears, Gladio runs a gentle finger over them whipping them away.

“Okay now?” he asks.  Noctis nods once more, sniffles and settles back down.

Once the prince is tucked back under the covers, Gladio makes his way back out into the hall.  Before he closes the door he hears a small, “Thank you, Gladio,” whispered into the darkness.  They don't speak of the incident again but it changes their relationship for the better.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

Over the years they develop a close bond, they are not people of words but actions.  Noctis’ continued selflessness and kindness towards complete strangers and his resilience in training, lead Gladio to know now, without a doubt, he will gladly protect and die for him.

They've grown so close that one day when Noctis places his hands on Gladios shoulders, heaves onto his tiptoes and kisses Gladio it just feels like the natural progression of their relationship, except it's not.  The kiss is quick, so quick Gladio is still blinking when Noctis takes a step back.  The ghosts of Noctis’ lips still tingling on his.

“Noct,” he begins, his tone hesitant.

Noctis’ body language is tense and anxious but his eyes stare at Gladio with resolution.

“I know you feel the same way,” Noctis states in a rush of breath, arms crossed, and chin up, daring Gladio for a denial.  Gladio feels a fond smile steal over his face and not for the first time wishes Noctis wasn’t so easy to love.

“You know it’s not about that,” he tells Noctis, not bothering to deny the truth of his feelings for his prince.

Hearing this, Noctis uncrosses his arms and says, “I know what my duty is.  As king, I’ll have to marry some girl and carry on the line and so will you but that’s not today or tomorrow.  I like you right now and if you want, can we- for now, have this?”

He knows the amount of courage it took Noctis to confess this, he knows because he’s never found it in himself to say the same to Noctis.  He had a feeling his prince was braver than him.

Gladio answer him with a hand to the small of Noctis’ back and the other to the back of his head pulling him closer until they’re kissing, this time tilting his head down to meet his prince halfway.

They both have duties and destinies to fulfill but Noctis is right, that’s not today or tomorrow, for now they can let themselves have this.

 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

On his eighteenth birthday, as per Amicitia tradition, his father inks the first line of Gladio’s tattoo onto his back.  As per tradition the first part is done with traditional tools by way of two bamboo sticks. One acts as a chisel with a needle made out of bone through it, the second one acts as a mallet. Each painful tap, tap, tap of the mallet against the chisel carves a design onto his back that symbolizes the pain he is willing to endure for his king.

Gladio barely registers the pain but is glad for it, this way he can pretend the tears that he refuses to let fall from his eyes are due to pain rather than the crushing secret his father is revealing with each line etched to his back.

His father tells him about the first, would-be-king, of Lucis.  He tells him about the man who became corrupted driven mad by darkness and the power of the crystal and in his madness attempted to destroy the world.  For his transgressions the crystal punished the would-be-king by denying him the crown and instead destroying him.

His father tells him their duty is not only to be Shield of the King but also Executioners of the King, literally executing the king. Their secondary duty, should the same corruption overcome any king of Lucis once again and stray them from their path to protect the crystal and thus the realm, is to end their life.

“It will fall to you, especially you Gladiolus, to stop Noctis should he ever fail to fulfill his destiny,” his father tells him his voice quiet and so full of sorrow that Gladio doesn’t think to ask why _especially_ him, in hind-sight he will regret not having done so.

Gladio lays on his stomach absorbing this information, thinking he could laugh himself into hysterics if he weren’t already exerting all his energy into keeping the bile he feels rising in his throat down.

He thinks about sarcastic, bratty, kind, caring, and resilient Noctis and the possibility that one day, he may have to use the sword that he uses to protect him to end his life.  He thinks about plunging his sword into Noctis’ chest stopping his heart, watching the life leave his body and the light dim from his eyes.

The thought is so repulsive and unacceptable, that in that moment, Gladio swears to the Astrals this cannot, will not, come to pass.  He resolves to ensure Noctis will be the best King Lucis has ever seen. The alternative is not an option.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

They’re on a train on their way to Cartanica, tensions are high after everything that has happened.  Gladio sits by himself silently fuming.  How did we get here? Gladio asks himself.  Already, he regrets his harsh words to Noctis if not necessarily the message.

Ignis has said Noctis will take on his duty when he is ready and not before.  Gladio thinks he’s wrong.  Not about Noctis taking on his duty, Ignis is wrong in believe they have the luxury to wait for Noctis to be ready when time is something they are short on.

Gladio wishes that they had more time. Time to grieve and ease into their new roles, Noctis especially but they simply don’t.  The realm is losing daylight quickly, the daemons multiplying at an alarming rate, they need Noctis to takes his duty as wielder of the crystal and use its power to purge the world of the Starscrouge before things become worse.

Time is something they don’t have.  Time is also a dangerous thing, time lets him linger on his father’s words all those years ago ‘ _especially you, Gladiolus_ ’ he had never given his secondary duty much though but it weighs heavily on him now.

Noctis is the King of Kings.  Noctis is the chosen one to bring about a new ear and put an end to the daemons.  The alternative which he has always denied, he now finds himself contemplating. What if Noctis decides the realm is not worth saving and strays from his path? 

However unsavory the thought, Gladio entertains it. For the first time he thinks about Noctis failing his duty, and in turn, he thinks about failing his own secondary duty right along with his King and choosing to instead protect him regardless of the path he chooses.

He laughs then at his own thoughts, not sure if he is laughing at the absurdity of it or at the truth of it.  Besides, Noctis is not like the would-be-king, he is not corrupted by power or darkness.  Noctis will fulfil his destiny, Gladio will make sure of it, if he has to take him there dragging, kicking and screaming, then so be it.

 

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

It’s been two months and Noctis still hasn’t returned after disappearing into the crystal.  The only reason none of them have lost it is due to the reassuring weight of their weapons when they summon them.

Gladio still feels bitter about not having run Ardyn through with his sword when they first met him, little though the action would have done.  The bastard is an immortal after all.

The would-be-king of his father’s lore was no other than Ardyn, he wonders if any of the Amicitia ever suspected that the unholy abomination still walked the earth, he guesses the answer is no.  It still doesn’t stop him from wishing he knew, perhaps things would have turned out differently. Perhaps Noctis would still be here next to him.

True to form though, Gladio deals in the now and now they have come to the conclusion that Noctis is not coming back any time soon and resolve to stick together so they can reunite with their King when he finally returns,  however long that may take.

 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

 

It’s been one year to the day since Noctis has been gone. Not for the first time Gladio thinks he should be with him, wherever he is, fulfilling his duty to protect him. Ignis, Prompto and he had parted ways some months ago.

The decision more his own than the others. He’s had a difficult time adjusting to that missing void Noctis has left in his life.  Not to say Prompto and Ignis don’t miss him but Gladio can’t understand how they go on with the paralyzing feeling when they realize Noctis isn’t there.

He sure doesn’t know how to cope with the void that comes after going to shield someone who isn’t there, of performing moves that no one is there to finish, of making a joke and not hearing the answering laugh or snarky rebuttal.

His solution is to keep to himself, to keep away from anything that reminds him of Noctis which includes Ignis and Prompto.  It may not be fair or healthy but at this point, Gladio is just trying to keep from falling apart, from asking himself day in and day out, _what good is a shield without someone to protect?_

He spends a lot of time scouting and getting rid of daemons now.  He has a lot of time to himself to think and reflect.

During this time Gladio has come to the conclusion that had Noctis not chosen to fulfill his destiny, Gladio would have enacted his secondary duty as executioner. He knows the Noctis who would have chosen himself over saving anyone would not have been his Noctis, it would have been a puppet of the scourge it would have been a fifthly visage of him, a corrupted abomination just like Ardyn.  Gladio knows without a doubt Noctis would rather face death than hurt anyone.

This realization leaves him relieved that Noctis, for as much as Gladio misses him, chose the hardest path. Gladio just wishes he were there to walk it with him.  As it is, he is now tasked to wait for his King and preserve as much of the world as he can, so his King has something to save when he returns.

Gladio awaits the return of his King, knowing that when he returns, Gladio will continue to perform his duty to help his king return the light to the world once again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

The one year becomes two, become three and so on.  The waiting doesn’t change, some days are easier than others. Some days Gladio wakes up with a scream stuck in his throat, chest heaving, brow covered in sweat and heart beat drumming in his chest as the remnants of a nightmare linger into this waking hours.

He has nightmares where Noctis never comes back, nightmares where he wakes to summon a weapon that doesn’t come. Those days he goes sleepless for near weeks before exhaustion finally pulls him under and he’ll sleep so heavily he remembers no dreams.

Some days are easier.  He’ll be out scouting when a daemon will materialize and the weight of the weapon he summons is both a reassuring caress, as it is a promise from Noctis that wherever he is, he is still fighting, still fulfilling his destiny and he will return.

Some days he dreams about blue eyes full of laughter and light, about slim shoulders at ease without the troubles of the world weighing them down.  He dreams of laughter and soft lips on his, of an embrace that feels as real as it did years ago.  Good or not Gladio has no choice but wait and so he does.

Then one day, his King returns and with it a sense of purpose once again.  The feeling is so elating that he can’t help but kiss Noctis as soon as they’re alone.

“You’re finally back,” he whispers into Noctis’ pliant lips.

The smiles that Noctis gives him is so full of sorrow that Noctis could have been gone twenty years or a hundred and it will never keep Gladio from being able to read him, he knows with one look that Noctis is not here for long.

That night, while Ignis and Prompto are scouting around the heaven they’re camped out at, Gladio quietly rages, pacing the small area back and forth.  His thoughts a turmoil.  For once in his life Gladio doesn’t see a path forward or he sees it and refuses to acknowledge it.

“There has to be another way,” he insists.

“There isn’t.  This is the way it has to be, Gladio. I’ve come to terms with it, I’ve made my peace,” Noctis admits standing from the folding chair he had been sitting in and coming to stand in front of Gladio blocking his pacing.  Gladio shoots him a glare.

“Oh well, great for you, you’ve made your peace,” he is angry he doesn’t mean to lash out at Noctis yet there he is spending, what is likely, the last moments of peace yelling at his beloved king.

Gladio stops glaring, the thought jarring.  He closes the distance between them.  Noctis holds his hands out for him to take, he does so without hesitation bringing the still smaller man into his arms.

“What will I do without you?” he whispers into Noctis’ hair.  The question is unfair, he feels Noctis arms tighten around his neck.

“You would die for me.”  It’s a statement so Gladio doesn’t bother to answer.

“Now I ask you to live for me.”  Gladio pulls far away enough to look at Noctis.  Noctis cradles his face in his hands.  The only reason Gladio doesn’t look away is because this may be the last time he gets to see the love in his King's expressive blue eyes.

“You will go on and rebuild because I’m lazy,” he says with a small smirk, “and I will leave that to you and the guys. While you do that, it’ll be my turn to do the waiting and after many, many years we will meet again,” Noctis says voice quiet but sure, like a promise.

“I just ask that you stand by me a little longer.  I promise the sunrise will be worth the wait.”

Gladio nods because his King has asked this of him.  The days when he thought Noctis wasn’t worth protecting and following to the ends of the earth are far behind them.  And so Gladio follows his King perhaps one last time to the ends of the earth.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

The dawn breaking over the ruins of Insomnia is both the most beautiful and heartbreaking thing he has ever experience.  He knows Noctis has fulfilled his destiny and is now dead.

He turns from the sunrise to make his way up to the Citadel.  When Prompto and Ignis make to follow he shakes his head.

“No, please.  Let me do my duty one last time, let me carry him one last time,” he pleads. 

Without waiting for a reply he begins to climb the stairs.  He has never felt like an executioner more than he does in this moment.  His heart is heavy with grief as he takes step after step, into the throne room and up the stairs leading to the King’s seat.

His gaze is cast down, he doesn’t stop until he sees Noctis shoes come into his line of sight.  It takes all his strength to look up and as soon as he does he is on his knees, his body trembling with grief, eyes blurry with unshed tears.

There is his King seemingly asleep if not for the sword sticking out of his chest.  Gladio bows his head until his forehead is touching Noctis’ knee, he could swear he can still feel warmth coming off of him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers before straightening again and with a single motion pulls the sword out of Noctis’ chest.  No longer supported by the blade his body slumps forward.  Galdio catches him, resting his head on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again onto Noctis’ temple. He’s not sure what exactly he is apologizing for. Maybe for doing his job as Shield ensuring he got here and in doing his job as Shield guaranteed his execution.

Gladio may not have plunged the sword into his chest but he made it possible.  The irony that he became both shield and executioner is not lost on him.  He doesn’t let himself dwell on it, he has one more duty to perform.

With strength he does not feel he cradles Noctis’ body into his arms and straightens his knees.  The weight of his king in his arms as slight as when he was a boy.  He makes his way back down and out of the Citadel where Ignis and Prompto join him.

The sun is still rising covering the land in light once again. Gladio looks down at Noctis the sunrise bathing him in a soft ethereal glow, he can almost believe Noctis is just sleeping.  He swallows hard and with tears running down his face he walks forward.  With Ignis and Prompto flanking him they walk together into the dawn ready to accompany their King one last time, this time to his resting place.

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really hope this is what anon wanted. I feel like I went too much into what being a Shield is and not as much the executioner aspect! I tried!


End file.
